


Hayrides and Hard Questions

by Aryas_aria



Series: Jonrya Spooky Secret Pumpkin [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Multi, Ned Dayne (mentioned) - Freeform, Shireen Baratheon (mentioned) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 09:55:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16473338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aryas_aria/pseuds/Aryas_aria
Summary: Our favorite couple go to a fall festival. It should be the perfect date, so why is everything so complicated? Gift 1 of 2 for @arimonts23 for the Jonrya Spooky Secret Pumpkin!





	Hayrides and Hard Questions

Arya always did love the fall. The trees would turn colors, illuminating the world in dazzling hues of reds and oranges and browns until all would eventually turn grey, like her eyes. The air would be cold and soon winter would be on its way. Yes, it was safe to say that fall was a good time of year for Arya.

 

Gazing out the widow of Northside High, she vaguely hears her teacher lecturing on about The Great Gatsby. “Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall. Now what exactly makes Jordan’s statement ironic?” Mr. Manderly’s monotone voice provided a nice background for her daydreaming.

 

She remembers last fall, when Jon and Robb had declared that they’d be applying to NYU. New York was miles away from Washington and she’d hardly ever get to see him. Not to mention that she wasn’t even sure if she technically should be missing him. As her cousin, of course she would miss him, as any decent family would. But Jon had become more than that, so much more. She can’t remember when exactly it changed for her, when he became _her Jon_ instead of just Jon, but it certainly hadn’t waned in the few months since he’s been away. She knows he feels the same, the last conversation they had embedded into her memory like a second skin. He had stormed into the kitchens and confessed his feelings to her, but then he had just vanished—no calls, no texts. The only reason she even knew he was alive was because of Robb. He had told her to give Jon time, that it was all so much for him and that he just needed to adjust to this new development in their relationship. 

 

Collecting her books as the bell signals the end of the school day, she catches up with Ned Dayne and Shireen Baratheon, trying to console herself with the fact that Robb and Jon promised to be back for Thanksgiving. One way or another, she would get her answers then.

\---------------

Pulling into the parking lot of Northside High, he steps out of his car and reclines on the hood, waiting for the final bell to ring. Unintentionally, his mind goes back fifteen years.  He remembers his parents taking him over to the Winterfell grounds to properly meet his new baby cousin.

 

“Oh Ned!” His mother had coo-ed over Arya’s crib and picked her up. “She’s a doll! Absolutely gorgeous.”

 

“Thank you.” His Uncle Ned has said as he smiled and looked at a very weak, but happy Aunt Catelyn.

 

“What’s her name?” His mother had asked as she began twirling Arya around.

 

“We were thinking Arya.” Aunt Catelyn offered up.

 

“Arya?” His mother stopped and turned to Uncle Ned, a soft smile on her lips and unshed tears in her eyes. “Like grandmother?”

 

“Yes.” He had smiled down on the pair of them, his sister and his babe. “It’s still too early to tell, but judging by her coloring, I think she’ll look like you Lya.”

 

“Another wild little wolfing to add to the pack!” His mother was still looking at Arya. “Jon, come here. Come and meet your cousin.”

 

“Holding his father’s hand, Jon walked over to where his mother was standing with the babe.

 Crouching down, his mother made Arya eye level with Jon.

 

“Hello.” Jon said shyly. Then have her a kiss on the cheek, because that’s what he always did when he greeted Sansa. But this baby was not Sansa. She was not gentle and she was not calm. Arya was twisting and turning, trying to see this way and that. And before he could duck his head, she had grabbed a fist full of Jon’s hair and yanked hard.

 

“Oww!” He complained, but soon smiled as he saw that it was making Arya laugh. At his smile, she was stretching and reaching for Jon’s hair again.

 

“No, no, Arya love. We don’t pull on other people’s hair.” His mother was saying gently as she took Arya’s wandering hand in her own. It made Jon a little sad. He knew that his parents desperately wanted to give him a little sibling of his own, but one just simply hadn’t come. He was sure that his mother had found a kindred spirit in Arya though, if the way she was absolutely mesmerized by the babe was anything to go on.

 

That had been so long ago, and Jon has watched as Arya grew into a beautiful and inspiring young woman. She was bold and courageous, never turning down a chance to have a bit of fun or mischief. But she was also kind and empathetic, genuinely happy to use the resources at her disposal to help others. One day, she would change the world, Jon just knew it.

 

But this thing between them, it definitely wasn’t easy. Last year, when he and Robb had declared their intentions to go to NYU for college, things had shifted. The happy smiles and easy nature that Jon had come to associate with Arya’s presence had stopped. He isn’t quite sure when Arya changed from his cousin to his whole world, but he knew it for certain when she began drawing in on herself like that. It was that realization that had him speeding over to Winterfell the night before he and Robb were to leave for NYU. He had made a complete and utter fool of himself, banging on the double door entrance to the mansion like a mad man in the freezing rain. Bran had opened the door, a knowing looking his eyes as he simply pointed to the kitchen. Arya and Sansa were stuffing their faces with ice cream and it was evident that Arya had been crying.

 

“Jon!” Sansa had quickly given him a hug then dropped her voice lower. “I do hope you’ve stopped being an idiot.” She had walked out of the kitchen, but Jon was sure she could still hear every word he was about to say. It made no matter, though. He would tell Arya what she meant to him, he just couldn’t leave for college without saying it.

 

“Arya.” He had felt like a child, voice shaky and hands trembling. “Arya,” he cleared his throat and tried again. “There’s something I need to tell you.” It had all poured out of him: the way she made him feel, the life he wanted to build with her, the happiness he had when he was with her. She had sprung herself on him, peppering kisses to his face, and Jon had felt truly content for the first time in his life.

 

But soon, too soon, he realized how unfair he had been to Arya. She was only fifteen, still far too young and far too inexperienced to be tied down to him and his plans for their relationship. He wanted her more than anything, but he wouldn’t force her. What was a few years of waiting compared to forever? He had stayed away after that, rarely calling or texting her, and the few months since that night had been torture for him. Seeing her walk out of the high school now, the dark thoughts immediately yield to the happiness he feels at seeing her again.

 

“Arya!” He calls as she walks out of the school house doors, surrounded by her friends.

 

He can tell the instant she knows it’s him, long brown hair whipping around in the wind, grey eyes searching for a voice she knows as well as her own. Her face splits into a wide grin and she almost forgets to bid her friends goodbye as she rushes over to him. He kicks himself off of his sleek black Audi and plants his feet at just the right moment to catch her as she leaps into his arms and starts pressing kisses onto his face. It appears some things will never change between them.

 

“What are you doing here?” She asks breathless, excited.

 

“Fall break. Robb’s home too. He went to the middle school to pick up Bran and Rickon while I came here to get you and Sansa.”

 

“You’re staying the whole weekend?”

 

“Yup,” he said, popping the “p.” “Andddd were going to the fall festival tonight.”

 

“THE fall festival?!” She asked as he put her down. “How did you manage to get tickets/ they’ve been sold out since last week.”

 

“Robb and I might have bought the tickets two weeks ago, and decided to come home for it. Jeyne’s come home too.” They got in the car to wait for Sansa to come out.

 

“So she’ll be coming with us then?” The thing between Robb and Jeyne was rather complicated. They were on again of again through their last two years of high school and had decided to officially call it quits when Robb went off to NYU and Jeyne to UCLA. Nevertheless, they still _acted_ like they were a couple.

 

“Yes,” Jon chuckled. “I got an extra ticket for Sansa to bring Margaery too.”

 

“Who are you bringing?” Her tone was light and conversational, almost as if asking about the weather, most like to hide her anxiousness.

 

He looked at her and smiled, a rare sight, and only for her. “You.”

 

It set her heart to melting. Blushing prettily, she opened her mouth to reply when Sansa opened the door and got in. “Jon! Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?!”

 

“Robb’s here too,” He looked at Sansa through the rear view mirror, “and tonight we’re going to the festival. Jeyne’s coming too.” He smiled at her.

 

“Robb’s home?! And neither of you bothered to phone ahead?!” A pause. “Can I bring Margaery?”

 

Shooting Arya a knowing smirk, he simply nodded his head.

 

“Eeek! I’m so excited!” She gives him a kiss to the cheek in thanks before buckling her seatbelt. “What am I even going to wear?” Sansa continued on in this way until they reached the Winterfell mansion, filling the silence between the two lovers in the front seat.

\---------------

Walking up to the ticket booth, the soft glow of carnival lights greets them warmly. Jon and Arya are left standing alone at the entrance as the couples soon break apart as soon as Robb hands the tickets off. Sana and Margaery make a bee line for the rides, too fast and too rickety to possibly be safe while Robb and Jeyne wander over to the booths stacked along the outsides, intent on beating each other at shooting games.

Quirking an eyebrow up at Arya, Jon patiently waits for her to lead. And isn’t that the essence of their relationship, or whatever you would call it at this stage? He’ll always be there, in the shadows, too far away to grab hold of but never so far that she’ll forget he’s there. She wants to shout at him to take her now, to mark her and claim her like she knows he wants to. But she doesn’t, she knows his reasons, even if he won’t say them out loud, even if she thinks them ridiculous. She thinks them stupid, because she knows without a doubt that Jon is the one for her, that he’s just _it_. so what if she’s only 15, everyone in the family—in their lives know that they’ll be together. But she won’t push him, and so she takes his hand firmly and bounds off to the line for the hayrides.

“I should have known you’d want to go here first.” He laughs as they stand behind a group of rowdy teenagers, a family of five, and an elderly couple. It takes a while for the teenaged party to come back, but eventually they climb on the back of the truck, sliding in next to the elderly couple as the family of five settles in on the bench across from them.  Before long, the carnival sounds dwindle to a pleasant murmur behind them as the truck takes them through winding grasslands and dense tree paths.

Arya leans into his side, a soft but firm reminder of her presence, her warmth seeping into him despite the chill in the air. Jon wraps his arms around her and takes his eyes off of the landscape to observe the other passengers. He looks over to the family: two rowdy boys placed between their parents, leaning out over the rails, their faces lit up in wonder, a reminder of the days when Robb and himself were that age, always more brothers than cousins. He looks over to the father, a gentle smile on his face as a girl no older than three bounces on his lap. The mother reaches over and adjusts the father’s scarf, covering his neck from the cold and gives him a quick kiss over the heads of their children.  Turning, he finds two pair of eyes already on him and Arya as he looks to the elderly couple. They’re both bundled up in thick, heavy jackets, and Jon can’t quite catch what the woman says to her husband, but it makes him smile and nod his head as they snuggle closer to each other.

A while later, after he has won Arya a huge wolf and she’s beat almost every game the carnival has to offer, after they’ve stuffed their faces with funnel cakes and finally managed to catch up with the others, they find themselves on the Ferris Wheel.

Sighing as they reach the top, Arya turns to Jon, lines in her forehead as she bites her lips.

“What is it love?” Jon askes her gently, tugging on her chin until she stops biting her lips.

“Do you?” Her eyes peering up into him, so big and so vulnerable.

“Love you?” He huffs out a little laugh. “Arya, what a question! Of course I love you. Always.” He cups her face, his grey eyes staring back into hers, so like his own. “Always.” He gives her a small kiss, too chaste to be a proper one.

“Jon.” She closes her eyes and leans her head into his chest. “That couple from earlier. The older one.”

“What about them?” He furrows his eyebrows, not quite sure what they could have done to make Arya so distressed.

“The wife…she said we reminded her of them when they were younger.” Arya still hasn’t moved her head from his chest and the words come out a bit muffled. “Are you…. are you sure you could love me that long?”

“Arya,” true worry seeps into his voice now as he pulls her back to look at him. “I’ve loved you from the moment I knew you.” She makes to cut him off, but he keeps talking. “No, not like how I do now. But to think that I could ever stop loving you!” He collects himself, refraining because she’s still so young and he promised himself that he would let her live. He can’t lay this all at her feet now, when she’s only just begun to see the world.

She senses his hesitation, and disentangles herself from him. Folding her arms, she looks out over the fair as the Ferris wheel loops around again. “You won’t even talk to me about whatever this is! How could I possibly believe you?”

“Arya.” Groaning, he runs his fingers through his hair. “I can’t do that to you. I can’t put all of this on you. Not now, not yet.”

“Jon.” She had told herself that she wouldn’t push him, but the fear that he would go off to college and find someone better had been eating her up all these months. He had come to her and told her of his love, but then he had disappeared. And now that he’s right here in front of her, she wants him to quell her fears. “It’s not as if you’re so much older you know!”

“Arya.” He takes a moment to calm himself. He certainly had not wanted to fight with her. “Don’t you think I know that?!” She goes stock still, unused to him raising his voice at her. “I’m only eighteen! But I know, gods _I know_ that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But I’m still young, still stupid. I’ll make mistakes, and you will too. I _want_ to you make mistakes Arya. But I won’t mess this—us—up by going too fast.” He runs his hands through his hair again, and now that he’s started talking, he can’t seem to stop. “The truth is Arya; I saw our future today on that hayride. I saw us married with kids, stealing kisses over the tops of their heads. I saw us growing old together. Arya I want everything from you.” He sighs, emotions weighing heavy on his heart. He tucks a stray hair behind her ear. “But I can wait, I promise I can.”

Silenced, she simply nods her head as the Ferris Wheel creaks to a stop. Taking her hand, he guides her off the ride and over to where the others are gathering. She disentangles their hands and walks ahead of him, bumping shoulders with Sansa, who immediately picks up on her mood. She gives Arya a quizzical look, to which the younger sister only responds with a quiet “later.” Once they have finally reached Winterfell, far too late for Jon to make the journey to Dragonstone’s mansion across town, she finally speaks.

“I can wait too.” Her voice holds a silent resolve. “I don’t—I don’t expect that you’ll wait alone.” Her face contorts in pain, but she forges on anyway. “And I want you to know that it's ok. I’ll wait until you’re ready.” She makes to walk off, no doubt going to Sansa’s room where they will stay up until the early hours of the morning, analyzing this whole mess he’s gotten them into.

He grabs her hand, pulling her back. His eyes hungrily gaze over her face, twisting his hands into her hair, his quiet strength evident in the way he holds her steady. Before she can even make a sound, he leans in and properly kisses her. Its long and slow and deep and it makes her legs actually tremble. He is there to catch her though, his arms keeping her upright as his lips never leave hers. When they’re both sufficiently breathless, he steps away, unable to wipe the smile off of his face. “One day.” He kisses her forehead before walking down the hall to Robb’s room.

And in the morning, she will go downstairs to the kitchens with Sansa, dark circles under their eyes from staying up far too late trading secrets. Her mother and father will be at the table, already settled in and eating as Bran and Rickon will tumble downstairs a few moments later, Robb hot on their heels. Jon will come down last, and he will steal a kiss from her before they both sit down. He will look at her like she is the most important thing in his world. And in the future, on crisp fall day, with the leaves swirling off the trees and the wind blowing their hair askew, she and Jon will start their own lives together. But until then, the promise of tomorrow is enough for her.

Arya always did love the fall.

**Author's Note:**

> The first gift for @arimonts23 for the Spooky Secret pumpkin, I really hope you like it. The theme of fall provides a nice backdrop for the necessary discussion Jon and Arya need to have, and I've always associated fall with the chance to start over and do things right.


End file.
